Unsortable
by Whisper Gypsy
Summary: The Sorting Hat promotes house unity as the only way to battle the coming darkness; just how far will this sacred artifact of Hogwarts go to prove his opinion correct? And how will his ploy affect the residents of Hogwarts? Response to Challenge by SeriousOrSirius; NOT a oneshot.
1. 5972

A/N: This is dedicated to SeriousOrSirius, and is for her Challenge. Enjoy, love! This will be a novel-length fic, not a one-shot, but that doesn't mean anyone can slack off with reviews. I'm a very needy writer! (P.S.- chocolate-coated marauder{minus the rat} to whomever guesses what the chapter title is for! I might also give you a sneak peek at the next chapter... wink)

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Disclaimer: _Actually_, Pippa, Heather, Tyler, Mary, Eleanora, Drew, Alnair, Euclid, Cetus and the circumstances all do belong to me! HA—I now have mental baggage. Mock me as you will. On the other hand, anything you do recognize is the licensed and copyrighted material of JK Rowling. If I am REALLLLLY good, will I possibly get some of these characters as gifts? Don't we all want that to be the case... "Sudden Spikes in Good Behavior Sweep the Nation..." :P Read on, and enjoy.

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Unsortable Chapter One: #5972

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Pippa Darron moved her trolley to line up with the barrier between platforms 9 and 10 at London's King's Cross Station. Now all she had to do was walk rather quickly through a solid brick wall. Not that this was anything new; Pippa had made a great habit of walking through solid objects—even bringing objects, such as clothing or books, with her—but this was different. This time she wouldn't be the only person who could walk through a wall. The very idea of being so close to normal made the young girl giddy. She stepped back for momentum and began pushing her trolley forward when a smooth, fair hand reached out and grabbed the trolley handle.

"Patience, Pippa. It's your first year at Hogwarts; you know I wouldn't let you cross the platform without me, don't you, love?" The tall, dark-haired woman smiled down at her daughter with a look every parent wears when sending their child off to school for the first time: half sorrow, half joy, all pride.

Pippa rolled her grey eyes. "Yes, Mum," she grumbled. Heather Darron smiled lovingly at the young woman she raised, all on her own. Not a common accomplishment for a Pureblood witch, especially since the young girl's father was a Pureblood as well, but the circumstances were rather unique. Heather had conceived Pippa during her seventh year , had somehow found the courage to tell her lover, Reginald, that he was a father and together they had mulled over what to do. Heather managed to finish her classes, earning enough N.E.W.T.s to become a licensed mediwitch after an apprenticeship, which she fulfilled under Poppy Pomfrey's careful tutelage right up until Pippa was born. Persephone Elaine Darron was born on August 22nd, at 3:29 in the afternoon, on a grey and drizzly day, with Reginald and Poppy present. After Poppy announced Heather and Pippa healthy and set to leave the Hospital Wing, Heather and Reginald discussed what she should do. Reginald, after all, couldn't leave the Hogwarts Grounds and Heather had no inclination to teach. They decided Heather would raise Pippa as she saw fit, while the two Darron women wuld come to visit Reginald several times a year.

Heather moved behindthe trolley with Pippa. "Run on three? One... Two... Three!" And in the next breath, both Darrons were facing the gleaming red Hogwarts Express. Pippa gasped delightedly at her first glimpse of the legendary engine and allowed her mum to stow away her heavy trunk. "Here, love. This has your school robes and some coins for the sweets trolley. And here's Captain," continued her mum as she handed Pippa a small bag and her black and grey cat. "Now, remember to write me at least once a week, especially what house you get sorted into, how your classes go, if you need anything, and how your father is doing. Tell him I send my love, will you?"

Pipa nodded, suddenly feeling very small, tearful, and terrified of leaving her Mum behind.

Heather leaned forward, gave Pippa a kiss on the cheek, one last, tight hug, and whispered, "It's just Hogwarts, love. You've been there a hundred times already. And I can visit you when I come to see your father. So go on, be off with you!"

Both mum and daughter laughed through their tears and after squeezing her mum one last time, Pippa turned about, squared her slender shoulders and boarded the magical train.

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Almost every compartment had already been claimed, but Pippa managed to find one that only had one other rider. The boy looked to be in her year and, with his dull yellow hair, a pug-like nose, dark brown eyes, and a pair of squared spectacles, he also looked ready to fade into the panelling beind him, if he could. Pippa cleared her throat and said, in a very clear, measured voice, "May I join you?"

The boy's gaze darted up to hers, and he shrank back against his seat at first. After a moment, in which he seemed to restart his heart, the boy nodded at the pale girl. "Of-of course. There's more than enough room."

Pippa smiled and sat on the seat opposite him. "My name is Pippa. Pippa Darron. I'm a first year, but I've been to Hogwarts before, to visit my dad. Who're you?"

The boy looked at the girl across from him, noting her dark, bluish-black hair, delicate features, grey eyes and no-nonsense attitude. He straightened himself, rationalizing that he may as well get to know his year mates, even if they hadn't been sorted yet. "Alnair Parkinson." He stuck his arm out akwardly towards the pale girl, who smiled and placed her own hand into his. He shivered; her hand was cool to the touch-like dunking his hand in an icy lake in January. She pulled her hand away quickly, noting his distress, but maintaining her smiling demeanor.

"Pleased to meet you. What house did you want to get into, Alnair? My mum was a Ravenclaw, and my dad was a Slytherin, so either of those would be smashing for me. Of course, there's nothing wrong with either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, but I want to go into one of my parent's Houses, you know?"

Alnair nodded, idly rubbing the hand that still trembled from the lingering chill. "I want Slytherin, like my dad. My older brother Euclid is in Slytherin too; he's a sixth year. My mum was a Hufflepuff, but I prefer emerald green to honey yellow. Besides, who came up with the badger as a house symbol? Serpents, lions, and eagles all make sense, but who wants to be a bloody badger?" he protested with a heavily furrowed brow, as though trying to convince himself of his own argument.

"I do," came a small voice from the doorway to the compartment. A boy their age stepped into the compartment and settled himself beside Pippa, careful to not sit too close to the pale girl. "I'm Tyler Peverell. Both of my parents were in Gryffindor, but I think it's be more fun to be a badger than a lion. No crazy antics, just good times, I think. So, I've settled my hopes on Hufflepuff. Don't want to study enough to be in Ravenclaw, and too content to be a Slytherin." As if to prove his last comment, the sandy-haired boy leaned back and kicked his dangling legs through the air, hands clasped with his fingers crossed over his stomach. "Did you two hear we have to fly across the lake on rickety old brooms before they'll let us in the castle? And then when we do get in, we have to answer a Sphinx's riddle or duel a Boggart before we can get sorted?"

A frustrated groan announced the newest resident of their compartment. "What utter rubbish! Everyone knows you can't duel a boggart, and why bother make us fly over the lake at all, let alone on rickety old brooms? Do they want to drown the students before they can even get new first years? My mum told me all we have to do is sit on a stool and get a dusty old flap of a hat set on our heads. Then he-the hat is a he, apparently-will muck around in our heads a bit, see what we're made of, and poof, we get sorted. No impossible quests, at least until we have to take O.W.L.s in fifth year." The red head finally stopped talking and turned her blue eyes to inspect the group more closely. Her curls spun about her face as she gazed at each of her fellow classmates and then they bounced as she walked over to sit beside Alnair. "I'm Eleanora Garrow. But you can call me Nora. My mum was in Ravenclaw and she knows everything about everything, so she told me what would happen."

Pippa turned to the informative girl with something akin to hope. "So what house did you want to get sorted into? And I'm glad it won't be hard to get sorted, simple as toast, really. Oh, and what house was your dad in?"

"My dad's a Muggle, so he wasn't, but I want to be a Slytherin. Always being able to get your way sounds like a mighty fine plan to me. You're that Darron girl, aren't you? The one whose mum got pregnant at Hogwarts?"

Pippa clenched her jaw a bit, but nodded. "Yes, I am. But you can call me Pippa."

The four jolted with the train as it left the station and began travelling from the heart of London up into northernmost Scotland, conversation flowing amicably for the next two minutes, until the compartment door swung open once more, admitting three more first years. The girl and two boys quickly squished into the seats with the others and closed the compartment door. Somehow, all seven students managed to fit comfortably in their seats, and with a bit of space between each person as well. The tallest boy with ruddy brown hair, blue eyes and a dimple on his left cheek introduced himself first. "Hello, all! I'm Cetus! This is Mary and Drew. Sorry to squeeze in so late, their parents are Muggles so me and my folks were explaining the whole slew to them."

The first four owners of the compartment made their introductions in return, before Pippa turned to the remaining boy, who had wild red hair and grey eyes, "So, Drew, which House do you want to be sorted into?"

Little Mary piped up in a tiny voice, "There are four houses, right?"

"Yes," replied Nora smoothly. "There is Slytherin, where the most cunning and ambitious will go. The colors are green and silver, with a serpent as the emblem. Then there's Ravenclaw, for the very intelligent and wise. Blue and bronze, and an eagle for that lot. Then Gryffindor, for the brave. Red and Gold, and a lion. Lastly, there's Hufflepuff, Badger and-"

"And the colors are yellow and black; the home of the loyal. All the houses can be cool, but which one do you think you'll get?" Tyler interrupted, unrepentantly.

Mary blushed and looked down at her shoes, hiding behind the hanks of blonde hair that hid her golden and chocolate eyes. While she was studying her shoes, Drew spoke up, "I guess Gryffindor would be the coolest, though, wouldn't it?"

Mary nodded and answered, "I guess it must be. But I'd rather have loyal friends than brave or spectacularly brilliant or cunning ones." The quiet girl avoided meeting anyone's gaze and instead began tracing patterns onto the fabric of her skirt.

Nora rolled her eyes at the muggleborn's obvious foolishness, and turned to ask Alnair whether he had seen the sumer's World Cup. This prompted Cetus to explain to the two muggleborns just what Quidditch was, and to elucidate its finer points. Pippa glanced out the window for a bit, fascinated by the passing landscape almost as much as the differing personalities of her compartment mates.

She shook out of her stupor when a sharp rap on the compartment door followed by, "Anyone want sweets?" completely broke the ice in their little group. Pippa bought a little of everything and shared with everyone. They passed the remainder of the trip trying the different flavors Bertie Bott's had to offer, laughing at each other's expressions of displeasure when someone ate a particularly foul flavored bean.

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When the train finally squealed to a stop, each of the first years had already donned his or her school robes, and clambered off the train excitedly. The seven first years who had bonded during their train ride huddled ogether, avoiding the massive throngs of older students who parted the first years and headed towards a line of empty, horseless carriages. Something about the carriages almost aching to be used was so depressing to Pippa that she just had to look away. A booming voice called out, "Firs' years! This way, firs' years!" Pippa recognized the half-giant from her previous trips to the enchanted castle, and led her small group over to the lantern-bearing Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She grinned and waved at the man and received a gruff "H'lo, Pippa," and a bearded smile in return. "Alrigh', firs' years. No more 'n four to a boat. Hurry now!"

Pippa and her companions turned to face the lake, seeing several small boats docked along the shore of the lake. Tyler looked at the dark surface of the lake distrustfully, Nora seemed a bit miffed, Cetus had a huge grin on his face, Alnair was nervously sidling closer to Nora and Cetus, Drew moved closer to Tyler and Mary looked absolutely petrified. Pippa let out a hesitant breath, before facing the group she was in. "So how are we splitting up?"

Mary refused to leave Cetus' side, so the two would obviously ride together, while Alnair and Nora seemed to want to ride together. Each pair clambered into one of the waiting vessels, looking back at the three remaining companions. Tyler shrugged and joined Cetus, much to the obvious relief of Nora who clearly wanted nothing to do with the boy. Drew and Pippa shared uneasy glances before Drew went to join Mary and the two boys. Pippa turned to the other boat, and moved to join Alnair and Nora for their trip across the lake to the castle.

Mary's gasp could be heard all the way from Pippa's boat as each craft pushed itself off from the shore and followed the boat Hagrid sat in, a slightly larger boat than all the others. The first years each clutched the edges of their tiny boats, awed by the magic scuttling them over the dark surface of the Black Lake and moving them closer and closer to the castle they still couldn't see.

And then, the burdened boats rounded a bend as they approached the castle's boat house and the towering school came into view. candles floated in several windows, giving the dark, stone castle a feeling of warmth and welcome. Every first year's head was thrown back, staring at their destination, gobstruck. Pippa grinned, eager to rush up the steps near the looming boathouse they were approaching and hurry to her sorting. She just wanted to see her dad again, get into one of her parent's houses and write to her mum about all her new friends. This was the best night of her life!

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End of Chapter One. Please review!


	2. Selective Psychic

A/N:Thank you to everyone who has read and enjoys this story. Especially thanks to: , for being my indefatiguable sounding board for this storyline. Muah, doll. Also, been listening to the glorious Joseph Paur's rendition of "April Child" from the 1993 masterpiece Rigoletto! this may have colored a bit of the sentiment for this chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All the bits you are intimately familliar with belong to the lauded JK Rowling. The Darrons, Alnair, Cetus, Mary, Drew, Nora, and Tyler all belong to me. so, nyah! ALSO: I wrote the Sorting Hat Song for this fic! So that belongs to me as well.

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Unsortable Chapter Two: Selective Psychic

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Hagrid ushered his young charges through the doors of the boathouse, after ensuring each child successfully disembarked his or her boat after their voyage—a very near thing with Mary who stumbled trying to get out and had Cetus' quick thinking to thank for her undrenched state. The intimidated students walked behind the half-giant up a set of stone stairs which led to a side entrance into the castle proper. Mary clutched nervously at Cetus' hand, refusing to let him leave her side now that she was at the mystical and powerful school he had told her all about. Alnair and Nora unconsciously sidled closer to each other, looking about themselves with carefully schooled expressions. Tyler leaned against Drew and began whispering to him about something that sounded dangerous.

Pippa moved herself a little apart from each of them, and from the other first year students. She was familiar with the majority of the castle's main rooms, but this passageway was quite foreign to her. She moved closer to little Mary, fearful of the familiar castle filled with ghosts, moving portraits, switching staircases, and bustling classrooms, that looked so intimidating from away from her mother's side and shrouded within a mass of first years. Quietness swallowed the anxious temperament of the nervous younglings as they slowly filed into a large hallway that Pippa knew to be close to the Great Hall. Waiting before them, at the crown of a small set of stairs stood a familiar woman in emerald and amethyst robes, hat cocked off to the right alongside her strict bun of salt-kissed ruddy hair. But, Professor McGonagall was not smiling as she usually was, and her robes were singed, still smoking even. And the smell! Some unlucky student must have hit her in the crossfire of a dung bomb fight, if the sour expression of the Head of Gryffindor house was anything to go by.

Pippa smiled behind her hands, imagining the story playing out in her mind. The wonderful scene was interrupted by a whispered spell which cleared the horrid stench from the air, and most likely from cloying the professor's robes as well. And then her clear voice cut through the whispers and titters of the newest students. "Welcome, first years, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Within these walls you will learn the intricacies of magic, where your strengths lie, and form lasting friendships. Momentarily you will enter the Great Hall, where you will come to eat every meal during your stay here, and you will be sorted into your house. There are four houses at Hogwarts: Ravenclaw, aerie of the witty, Slytherin, lair of the cunning, Hufflepuff, burrow of the loyal, and Gryffindor, den of the brave. Each house has a professor as its head: I serve for Gryffindor, and once you are sorted your head of house will come by and introduce his or himself to each of you. Now, please, line up in two columns. Side by side now, follow me." And then the doors swung open into the Great Hall.

Thousands of lit candles were suspended above the four long tables, just below the enchanted ceiling that was lit by a million stars, which winked out at the passing students from behind or between rolling dark clouds. Pippa couldn't contain the small gasp of delight that passed through her chilled lips. Swirling mist passed between each of the tables, sentiently parting for the first years, ushering them towards the dais at the end of the way. Filing down the aisle, two by two, the first years closed in on their waiting fates. Professor McGonagall stepped ahead of them, settled a stool in the center of the raised dais, and set a floppy, patched scrap of a dingy hat onto the stool. She plucked a scroll from within the folds of her robes, and turned to face the hat, as though waiting for it to do something.

And then the greatest stitching on the hat rent open and coughed, as though it were a mouth clearing its throat. Pippa's eyes widened in tune with Mary's startled cry at the independently moving garment. Cletus tucked his companion closer to him, imitating the remainder of the first years who were huddling together for safety. With little more than a warning chuckle, the hat began to sing, of all the things for a hat do!

_Every year it seems the same,  
I'm given many minds to read,  
and then tell you where to go—  
but my aren't you a quaking lot, indeed!_  
_One house lies before you,  
the choice is yours to make.  
I'll listen to the thoughts you voice,  
when you put me on I'll have my take.  
For I'm no __meagre, humble cap,  
I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat!  
Put me on, and I'll read your heart,  
and how many lids can do just that?  
There are four houses fair:  
Ravenclaw is cloaked in blue,  
the domain of the wise, where  
thirst for knowledge reigns true.  
To the other side is Hufflepuff,  
home to the loyal, friendly crew.  
In the colors yellow and black,  
Badgers will never number few.  
Across the hall, ambition lies.  
Home of the emerald and silver,  
our Slytherins are cunning,  
but powerful, serpents that slither.  
Last but not the least, comes the king  
of every beast, in scarlet and in gold,  
the Gryffindors are on the prowl, accepting only  
the brave, the courageous, and the bold.  
But these houses have more in common  
than all that keeps them apart;  
for all their differences,  
they are the same at heart.  
Badgers, snakes, eagles, and lions alike,  
this year you shall find new proof,  
that no matter the colors of your house,  
you all live under the same roof._

None of the first years made any move closer to the hat as it settled back, silent for now. But, to their credit, none stepped away from it either. Professor McGonagall unfurled the scroll in her hand and called out the first name, "Adder, Marcus."

A rather sweaty boy, with hands that were curled tightly into white-knuckled fists approached the stool, and accepted his fate with the smallest of gulps. The hat had barely brushed his head before calling out, "Slytherin!" Following that, Anderson, Cetus was sorted into Gryffindor. A Bessington, Davis was sent to Ravenclaw and then the entire hall waited with baited breath as "Black, Regulas" was sorted into Slytherin. After him, "Chada, Meghan" and "Davis, Ianto" became Ravenclaws.

"Darron, Persephone." Pippa let out the shaky breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She tucked her trembling fingers into bunched fists, determined to do as her father had recommended when she last visited him.

_"Now, Pippa," his whiskey-rough voice caught in her ears, burrowing his words into her memory. "When the time comes for you to be sorted, you'll be in front of everyone. Some will know about the story of your conception, the involvement of your mother and me while she was a student. But that really isn't your story, since you had no control over any of that." Her father's pale eyes met her own, as his chilled hand moved a stray curl off her shoulder to fall behind her back. "Only the weak will judge you for actions beyond your control. What you can control is how you respond to their teasing, and how you handle yourself before a crowd, and into what house you are sorted. Approach your fate calmly, Pippa, and rationally grasp your house with both hands, making the decision fully your own, understand?"_

Pippa had nodded, understanding the basics of what he had said, and she tried to apply his teaching now. He was always adamant that your house would be important later in life, and to be careful in choosing your house. Pippa had deliberated for a long time before she arrived at her final pair: Slytherin like her father, or Ravenclaw like her mum. Surely the hat could give some sort of opinion to help her make the final choice.

She moved to the front of the crowd silently, settling herself gracefully onto the three-legged stool perched in front of everyone. Hushed whispers flooded the Great Hall, piercing her pale ears as little more than murmurs. Notching her chin up higher she waited for Professor McGonagall to deposit the Sorting Hat onto her head. She glanced over to her right and saw her father smiling at her encouragingly.

Professor McGonagall held the hat over the young girl's head and dropped it, where the hat touched the girl's hair in passing as it continued its descent through her body to land on the stool, sitting, clearly visible to everyone, inside of Pippa's stomach.

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Reviews are love!


	3. Define Substantial

A/N: This WHOLE chapter is dedicated to my first (and only; hint, hint) reviewer: Arthur Wilhoite. THANK YOU!

Disclaimer: The subjects belong to JK Rowling, and the curses are courtesy of dear old William Shakespeare.

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Define Substantial

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Pippa's heart plummeted to join the Sorting Hat in her stomach. Gasps washed over the hall with all the severity of a casket being lowered into the ground. Two girls in Hufflepuff screamed. The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors leaned a bit closer, peering for a better view around their classmates. The Slytherins under-years watched as the entire group of seventh years stood, in deference to Pippa's father, and silently designated their Head Boy to speak for them. But, this proved unnecessary, as Pippa's father flew to the dais in a bloody rage, shouting obscenities in German. At first no one knew if it was at the pale, trembling girl on the stool or the misbehaving hat. Pippa stood from the stool, moving strangely through the hat as she did so, and her father didn't move his stance one whit, now clearly haranguing the hat.

Slowly, the spitting words became English, though no less determined. "...-pated, moth-bitten flap-dragon! And why are you trying torment her for any slight you feel towards me, you weedy, half-faced, little mammet?" Pippa's eyes had risen from her black, leather Mary-Jane's, to stare gapingly at her father, along with the rest of the Great Hall. Even Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and Supreme Mugwump, seemed at a complete loss for the scene playing before him. The Sorting Hat just stared, although with no real eyes, one has to wonder what exactly he is doing, at the Bloody Baron, smirking at his tongue-lashing.

When the bloody baron paused in his tirade long enough for anyone to get a word in edgewise, the hat cut in quickly, "Are you done yet, or do you not want to hear my reasons?"

Pippa backed a little further from the stool, her almost transparent form half-hidden behind Professor McGonagall's voluminous dress robes. She hadn't ever considered the possibility that the Sorting Hat might be an exception to her transitory nature. She didn't have trouble with articles of clothing at all—never had before. Terror gripped her young heart as she huddled off, trying to be as out-of-the-way as it was possible to be, hoping she would be allowed to stay at the school, even if the Hat refused to sort her.

"Well, give me you flea-bitten reasons then, you daft excuse for a delayed refuse pile!" The Bloody Baron was nearly hissing at this point, a clear sign he had lost his temper. Professor McGonagall reached a placating hand out in front of her, unsteadily.

The sorting hat puffed itself up and out a bit, before settling down to begin his next long-winded oration. "Well, if you will recall, good Baron, we have had a long-standing debate going on between us. Now this friendly little discussion debated the possibility and the recommendation of house unity. And you once told me my speeches were hogwash, and each house was a solitary beacon for its virtues. Well, you were wrong. Your own daughter is my proof, Baron."

The baron spluttered several rude things at the hat, but was interrupted by the fabric on the stool once more, "And she is not going to be sorted. I am here to be placed on heads of substance to read minds. She is hardly substantial enough for me to perch upon. In fact, I fall clear through her."

With much disgruntlment from every professor, Dumbledore inssited that the sorting continue, and that nothing could change the Sorting Hat's mind once it's decision had been made. After all, no one had ever needed to be resorted or sorted twice in the entirty of Hogwart's great history. There was even a book validating his claims, but no one had ever gotten around to reading all the way through it, so no one was really fully sure. But who would question the man who had defeated Grindewald?

Following the large gaffe that was Pippa's sorting, the remainder of the students were sorted: DeLacey, Emma joined Hufflepuff, Eremier, Tobias followed Edwards, Jennifer into Ravenclaw. After Tobias, Garrow, Eleanora was sorted into Slytherin. Three Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw later, Morton, Andrew joined Gryffindor before Parkinson, Alnair became a Slytherin. Next, Peverell, Tyler joined the house of Hufflepuff. Shacklebolt, Kingsley joined Gryffindor, Skeeter, Rita joined Slytherin, and then Small, Mary joined the Hufflepuff bunch. Then three more Gryffindors and one Yvington, Zacharias joined Slytherin and everyone belonged to a house.

Well, nearly everyone.

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"But, Albus, we've never had a student left unsorted." Professor McGonagall's lips pinched into a tight frown, worry settling onto her brow.

"Nothing we say will change the mind of the Sorting Hat—he was designed to have the last word on which house a student belonged to, after all. I just suppose she will not belong to any house. Miss Darron will be able to house near her father, I suppose. And any house points she gains or lost could be given to the house of her choice, although she must rotate her choices each month. I don't know what else we can do, Minerva. She was accepted as a student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and a student she shall remain. Although unsorted into any house, we shall all teach her for as long as she desires to learn."

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_Dear Mum,_

_Dad sends his love._

_So this was my first night... And it did not go at all like I expected._

_So, I'm sure you remember the Sorting Hat from your turn at Hogwarts. Well, he apparently has decided to prove to Dad that house placement doesn't matter. So he wouldn't sort me. He just sort of fell right through me, landing on the stool and sort of sat in my stomach. It was like this strange tickling sensation as he fell. And then when I moved to get up, it was even stranger, it was like this tugging behind my navel, but before it could transport me somewhere, the sensation stoppped and I was up and moving away._

_It's been a strange night, Mum. So, Headmaster Dumbledore has me living in a room near Dad and the other ghosts. I don;t mind it so much, since it's rather a nice room. I'm certain when you come to visit Dad, youll be as fond of it as I am._

_I met rather a lot of friends on the train. I'll find out in the morning what my time table looks like, but I'll be sure to let you know._

_It's really not too bad, Mum. Don't worry about me._

_All my love,_

_Pippa_

_PS- would you send Chaps along to me, if you can? I nkow I sadi I wouldn't bring her, but I want her now._

Pippa looked around the small room she had to herself. It was the perfect room, With purple colors dominating the scheme, reflecting the preferences of the headmaster rather than a specific house, she supposed. She now had everything she could have asked for from a bedroom at school, it was in fact much like her room at home. But it was lonely.

Pippa would work on that, first thing in the morning.

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E/N: To whom it may concern: Substantial: an adjective: of, relating to, or having substance; material. Also a noun: a solid thing.

PLEASE REVIEW!

Gypsy


	4. Battle Lines of Class Warfare

A/N: I know, I know. I never update. Please no shooting. Well… Okay, but only with marshmallow shooters; that's permissible, I suppose. So long as someone brings graham crackers and dark chocolate. I've got the bonfire all ready. PS: This chapter is dedicated to my second reviewer: Dnhost24.

Disclaimer: If this story belonged to me…. Where to start redecorating this plot?

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Chapter Four: Battle Lines of Class Warfare

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The problem with having no roommates while living in a castle is that it is far too quiet and almost impossible to fall asleep. Eleven-year-old Pippa stared glumly at her ceiling, watching two spiders work in tandem to weave an intricate snowflake pattern, beginning in the center and threading out. Her eyes glimmered with silver tears, ghosting out from her tear ducts and splashing through her porcelain cheeks, tickling her brain as they fell to the pillowcase.

"Sometimes I hate this," she whispered to the two spiders. They stopped moving, seeming to pause to listen. "I mean, I love my dad, and wouldn't trade him for the world. But, why do I have to be half-ghost?"

The spiders didn't answer, but there was no answer for that, really. "Most of the time, I'm not too different from everyone else, and Mum… Mum's always loved me for it, saying it reminds her of all the best things in Dad, and that I am every beautiful thing she never imagined for herself. But I don't want to be different from all the other first years, I don't want to be able to walk through walls, I want to be able to taste oatmeal, and I want to get properly sorted and be a Ravenclaw, or a Slytherin, or a Hufflepuff, or even a Gryffindor." Her voice grew lighter as she continued, no longer speaking to the busy arachnids overhead, but to the dark, empty spaces before her pale grey eyes.

"I know it's impossible, but still…" Pippa rolled over, turning her side to the spiders, and her back to the wall that separated her room from her father's favorite haunt. She shifted, trying to find some sense of warmth in her heavy coverings, but all she felt was ice.

* * *

Morning came slowly, ending a sleepless night for the unsortable student. Her eyes remained unfocused, pointed at the floor over the edge of her bed. She shifted aside her white comforter and lilac sheets, touching her icy feet to the cold floor, nearly wafting over to her bureau. Pulling her uniform on, complete without any classifying house colors, she brushed her long, dark hair. Forming a simple plait off to her left, she tied a simple white ribbon at the end, still uncertain in her actions in this strangely familiar environment. She gazed at her pale reflection—even half-ghosts have souls, which seems to be the standard requirement for a reflection—for several long minutes before sighing and walking over to her desk to gather her book bag and head to the Great Hall for breakfast and to receive her timetable.

Her footsteps echoed in the corridor outside her room, as she walked over to the nearby portrait of Merlin. Most people weren't aware there was a moving portrait of the epochal wizard in the castle, but he had introduced himself to the first child born within the hallowed walls of the first Wizarding school established in his Brittania shortly after her third birthday.

"This day's blessings unto you, Pippa. How goes your first day as a student?"

Pippa bit her lip, before giving him a half smile. "Did you hear about the sorting, Merlin?" The sage portrait nodded to the young student who gave a heavy sigh. "Then you know last night was a complete disaster. I don't belong to any of the Hogwarts houses. You know I wanted to either be a Ravenclaw like Mum, or a Slytherin like you and Dad. Now I'll just be a footnote in Hogwarts, A History. What do I even get to do? How will they map out my classes and things? Headmaster Albus said I would stay as a student, and that's a relief, but…" The half-ghost shrugged at the portrait. "What should I do, Merlin?"

The portrait gazed at her for several moments, his hazel eyes meeting her grey ones as he chewed on the inside of right cheek. "It will not be an easy path, child, but yours was never intended to be. Did you know, there was a prophecy, long before I was ever born, which foretold your coming? You have a hard path before you, but you are strong enough, cunning enough, and brave enough to take it. You will find friends who are loyal to you, in spite of everything that happened. Perhaps the hat is more right than daft, and leaving you unsorted will create a thread of house unity for further development. Had you befriended anyone on the train ride over here?" Pippa nodded, mulling over everything the great warlock had told her. "Then continue your relationships with them. Stay true to who you want to be, Pippa, and that is who you will become." Merlin bowed to her and gestured towards the Great Hall.

Pippa straightened her spine, untucked her chin from her chest and smiled at her friend. "Thanks, Merlin." She walked to breakfast with a lighter step, and a lighter attitude. She ignored the mentions of a prophecy, filing them away for later library research.

She walked through the doors and right up to the professor who was half her height. "Good morning, Professor Flitwick. Do you have my timetable?"

He smiled at the daughter of one of his alumna's and summoned a bit of parchment from beside the Headmaster's plate at the head table. "Here you are, Miss Darron. Your first year timetable. You'll have my Charms class on Mondays and Wednesdays just after lunch with the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. I look forward to assisting you with your wand work!" The little man bowed at her and toddled off towards the Ravenclaw table where he was passing out time tables to the earliest risers among his house.

Pippa scanned the room and found Alnair sitting beside an older boy who looked very much like him at the furthest end of the Slytherin table. She walked over to him, smiling as she sat down. "Good morning, Alnair. Do you mind if I join you?"

Alnair grinned and said, "I let you sit with me on the train, Pippa, why not now?"

The older boy beside him raised an eyebrow at his Alnair. "And the fact that her father is the Bloody Baron means she will always be welcome at the Slytherin table, Alnair." The older boy, whose nose was much straighter than Alnair's, turned to face Pippa, his own smile much more guarded than Alnair's as well. "You will always be welcome to join us in our common room should you so desire. The password is currently "Moth-bitten flap dragon", in honor of the Baron's outrage, of course. But where have my manners been? Miss Darron, allow me to introduce myself as Euclid Parkinson."

Pippa nodded at the sixth year, pulling a pitcher of water closer to her plate before filling her goblet. She took a long sip and washed the water down her throat, sighing as it warmed her throat, even momentarily. "Thank you, Mr. Parkinson; call me Pippa."

"As you wish, Pippa; please call me Euclid. Would you pass the bangers, please?" And so breakfast progressed in a simple fashion, even after their party was joined by Nora who quite actively compared time tables with the young ghostling and was satisfied that half their classes would be together.

The only distinct factor was that every Slytherin, from first year to seventh, seemed to hold her in some high regard. It spooked her, but she nodded each time one of the snakes bowed to her and introduced themselves. She lost track of names after the first seven, but smiled politely anyway, as she had been raised to do.

At the end of breakfast, Pippa double-checked her timetable and walked with Nora and Alnair to Herbology, which she would share with the Slytherins and Gryffindors. As they stood off to one side, waiting for the rest of their classmates to join them, another Slytherin first year wrestled her way through the students to introduce herself to Pippa. "Hello, Miss Darron, I'm Rita Skeeter. I'm so pleased to meet you. It's such a dramatic story, isn't it? Your parents love and then your very own sorting, or perhaps unsorting sounds better, don't you think? Let me jot that down! I don't want to be forgetting it!" Rita pulled a grey quill from where it had been tucked in her hair and began digging through her school bag, searching for a spare bit of parchment.

Pippa pulled away from the blonde girl with ugly green, star-shaped earrings and succeeded in hiding from her. Luckily Professor Sprout walked in then and announced the beginning of class. Pippa was partnered with Nora and her Gryffindor friend, Cetus, as they began weeding the beds and raking out batches of fertilizer to increase their potency. She looked across the room once and caught poor Alnair's gaze as he worked with the constantly speaking Rita and a silent, dark-skinned Gryffindor. He shrugged at her and moved to help the Gryffindor as Rita screamed about cutting her finger on the old rake.

The high point of the day was where Miss Skeeter was assigned an extra assignment on the benefits of wearing the proper Herbology attire—such as gloves—while working, seven inches by next class. Pippa left the classroom smelling ripe, but wearing a smile on her face.

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Please review! It seems like only two people are reading this, otherwise! (However, I do love you two! Dear Arthur and Dnhost24, I hope this story continues to bring you some modicum of enjoyment. Love, Gypsy)


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